Too Much Poison, Come Undone
by Princess Sammi
Summary: 2017 reboot: 'She can't bear to watch anymore, and yet she can't look away; its like a bad horror movie, seeing Hecate acting this reckless, this out of control, this-this isn't Hecate.' A one-shot inspired by the upcoming Softbroom episode.


**Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch. Title comes from 'Every You Every Me' by Placebo.**

 **A/N: I had a plan, and then in true fashion, it kind of went out the window. Anyway, I wanted to write something based on the upcoming Softbroom episode, so I did :D Granted, it's a bit darker and more angsty than I imagine the episode will be, but that's how I roll.**

 **Now, who wants to fan-girl with me over what awaits on Monday's goodness: the hair, the rose, the dancing!**

* * *

 **Too Much Poison, Come Undone**

She peers through the potions laboratory window, taking a rare opportunity to just observe Hecate.

Or at least, this new version of her.

The tall woman is currently sat on her desk, swinging her legs back and forth, laughing hysterically as she shoots sparks up and into the atmosphere. Books, jars of ingredients, and furniture all seem to dance gracefully under her spell before it falters from a complete lack of control and it quickly all comes crashing down around her. Hecate just laughs, completely oblivious to the mess and destruction she — _well_ , her alter ego — has been causing all day.

 _'Even her laugh is all wrong,'_ Pippa thinks sadly to herself, biting down hard on her lip in a futile attempt to keep her composure. She can't bear to watch anymore, and yet she can't look away; it's like a bad horror movie, seeing Hecate acting this reckless, this out of control, this- _this_ isn't Hecate.

Not her Hecate anyway.

 _'Except she's not yours.'_

Gritting her teeth, she closes her eyes and pushes the voice to the back of her mind, where it quickly slips deep into the confines, safe and out of sight for another day. There isn't time to be dealing with her own feelings. Not when there is a witch to save. But time is fast running out, and she's terrified of it winning the battle. She's already lost Hecate once, and she can't lose her again ... she just can't.

And she won't.

Especially not to another version of Hecate herself.

She steels herself to focus, plastering on her best 'showtime' smile, and enters the classroom, bracing herself for what is to come.

Hoping against hope that it's not too late.

* * *

"Hiya Hiccup," Pippa exclaims brightly.

She tries to keep her voice as steady and normal as possible, knowing that anything else will only add panic to an already precarious situation. Still, she's wary as she goes to approach her friend. While usually, she struts with confidence, her movements now are slow and steady, akin to approaching a wild animal. In a way, she supposes she is, for this creature, this _thing_ , it doesn't have the softness of Hecate's eyes ... those beautiful Bambi eyes.

' _The ones you fall asleep dreaming of every night'._

"Pipsqueak!" Hecate beams as she practically jumps off the desk, rushing over and throwing her arms around her friend, ignoring the blonde's protests as she drags her back over to where she was previously sat.

The Pentangle nervously positions herself on the very edge of the desk — lest she suddenly needs to leap into action — and studies her best friend up close.

Gone is the usual tight, black dress, casually discarded in favour of a black number with sheer flowing sleeves. On her head sits a flower crown, making her look like some kind of woodland faerie princess, and her hair, normally plaited and tied into an intricate bun, tumbles loosely over her shoulders, and is as wild and untamed as the look in her eyes.

It's like looking at a stranger. And as she gazes into the unfamiliarly familiar brown eyes, Pippa can feel a piece of her heart actually breaking.

This isn't right ... _this_ is all wrong.

Hecate, however, doesn't seem to register this moment of melancholy; the dark eyes dance madly around the room as she eagerly seeks out her next adventure. After a few moments, Pippa's gaze slowly follows, finally taking in the mess of a room that is normally Hecate's pride and joy.

And it doesn't end there either.

The tornado of destruction that sweeps through the school — without a hint of mercy —is _more_ than enough evidence of the current acting headmistress and her thoroughly productive afternoon.

 _"We just want her back," the girls' say, after she hurriedly arrives at Cackle's, having dropped everything as soon as she hears those three words: "It's Miss Hardbroom."_

 _"Don't worry, we'll fix it," she hears herself reply with ease, before she flashes a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes, and fails to disguise just how worried she is as a cold dread seems to settle itself in the pit of her stomach, and a rousing chorus of 'what if's' consume her mind._

 _'What if Hecate doesn't want to see me?'_

 _'What if they can't reverse the potion?'_

 _'What if it's already too late?'_

 _'What if ... what if ... what if?'_

 _'What if … I lose her?'_

But she chooses to believe that her Hecate is still in there somewhere, and fighting with everything she has to claw back her identity. Every so often, she'll catch a glimpse of her — the real Hardbroom — before she vanishes almost as soon as she can appear, leaving this imposter in her place.

Despite the potentially life-threatening situation, Pippa can't deny that this Hecate looks utterly breathtaking, and it partly saddens her. It saddens her that the real Hecate can't allow herself to let go, even a little, and open herself up to the beauty and promises of the world and all it has to offer. As ravishing as she may look right now, the blonde is quick to remind herself that it's not real.

Something that is reinforced by the flashes in the deep brown eyes, and the trembling hands as the potion starts to falter.

* * *

A sharp tug at her sleeve, and the persistent voice in her ear, draws her from her reverie.

There is now an afternoon tea party set for two — complete with a mountain of pink donuts — floating on a tray that is suspended in mid-air. Rather than taking one from the top of the pile, the brunette plucks one from the centre and watches as they all go tumbling down like pieces in a game of Jenga. The Pentangle tries to stop the tray from clattering as Hecate's half-hearted spell gives way, and donuts, milk, and china all plummet towards the ground at lightning speed.

In the few minutes it's taken to do that, Hecate, with her attention span currently rivalling that of a two year old, has found a new distraction.

She carelessly waves the glass wand around, creating bubbles of different shapes and colours. Orbs expand in size before they explode, showering the occupants of the room with gold glitter. Pippa watches every slight movement of the wand; knowing how utterly devastated the real Hecate will be if anything happens to it. Managing to coax the witch into handing it over, she quickly vanishes it for safe-keeping.

Hecate pouts as her toy is taken away. "Spoilsport," she says, and sticks out her tongue.

"So," Pippa begins, gesturing to the disarray that is all around them as she tries to change the subject; she doesn't know why, but she is starting to feel incredibly out of her depth. "You've had a busy day then?"

Hecate nods, her grin becoming wide, and almost Cheshire-cat like. "It has been rather exciting!" She practically pulls the other woman's arm out of her socket as she grabs for a pink-polished hand. "C'mon, Pipsqueak, let's go have an adventure ... for old time's sake."

"Do you not think that you've maybe had enough excitement for one day, Hiccup?"

"Do you want to know what I think?"

Pippa isn't so sure she does, but she nods anyway, giving a little smile of encouragement.

The Hardbroom leans in closer, until they are practically touching, until the dark hair tickles against Pippa's nose, and the intoxicating scent of perfume on the nape of her neck almost causes the blonde's brain to short circuit. "I think," she drawls in her most seductive tones, "that you need to lighten up a bit, Pipsqueak," and then she playfully shoves her.

Only it's not so playful.

Not expecting the push, Pippa loses her balance and topples off the edge of the desk, landing hard on the unforgiving flagstone. She stays there for a few minutes, too shocked to even speak let alone move. There is a deep throbbing in her hand, and she slowly turns her palm, just enough to see the shards of broken glass embedded. It's painful .… it hurts, but nowhere as much as the shard of glass she feels has just stabbed her in the heart. Well-manicured black fingernails reach out to touch her, and without really meaning to, she freezes.

When she next looks up, Hecate is looking at her.

"...Pipsqueak! I-" There is no defence. _None._ Her hand covers her mouth, and the rest of the sentence is completely muffled as guilt and shock hits her all at once. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't-I — help me."

Her whole body starts to shake, and she clamps her hands over her ears, desperately trying to drown out the other voice in her mind: the one that is making her want to do and say all those things; to cause so much damage and destruction; to hurt those she loves. _Dangerous._ Her father was right all along. She's dangerous. Tears spill relentlessly down her cheeks as she sinks helplessly onto the floor.

What was previously left of Pippa's heart is now on the floor, and in as many bits as Hecate herself. The brunette is now rocking back and forth, muttering to herself. Her utterances are too quiet to make out exactly what she's saying, but the gist is clear, and a few choice words make Pippa want to declare war on anyone who has ever hurt this woman and everyone who has ever made her feel like she was nothing.

"Hiccup? ... Hiccup, listen to me," Pippa says, eventually managing to prize Hecate's hands away from her ears. She takes them in her own, the uninjured one giving what she hopes is a squeeze of reassurance; an action that is as much for herself as it is for Hecate, still able to hear the woman's heart-wrenching cries play through her mind as though on a loop."It's okay, darling, it's okay. I don't blame you. None of it is your fault ... it's the potion."

"Please," Hecate whispers as she curls deeper into herself, her voice choked full of emotion. " Please, just tell me what to do."

"Just come back to me, Hiccup. That's all I ask."

"She's too strong, Pip. I can't-"

" ... Hecate?"

" ... Hiccup?"

The change of electricity in the air is as unmissable as the missing end of the brunette's sentence, and it makes the blonde internally shudder as she wonders what is going to happen next. For a moment, there is nothing, and all seems to be quiet on the Western front, but then descends the yellow mist. It lingers for a few minutes, intertwining itself with Hecate's own aura, before fading into the deep brown of her irises.

" _At first it was fun, she was less strict — more fun, but then it was like something shifted," Bea, one of the instigators nervously explains. "And then she started to become-I don't know ... reckless, impulsive, not at all like the Miss Hardbroom we know," Sybil Hallow finishes off, wringing her hands in a bid to keep herself calm._

Hecate throws her head back, cackling maniacally as she snorts. "Why the hell would you want her royal dullness back?" She leans in closer to Pippa, whispering in enticing tones. "You know, _technically,_ I'm still her. I'm just the fun version," she says, with a cheeky wink. The glint in her eyes deepens, and her tongue darts like a serpent tempting in the Garden of Eden. "So, Pipsqueak, what do you reckon? Will I do?"

"No," the blonde says, her voice barely above a whisper. She drops the hands in her own as though she's been burnt, shaking her head in defiance. "No," she repeats again, this time though, her voice is stronger, firmer. "This, _this_ isn't fun, _this_ isn't you - I mean, you're not _her_. You will _never_ be her!"

"Aw, how sweet," Hecate coos. "You love her."

It's really more of a statement than a question, but Pippa's silence provides all the answers that are needed.

"But ... why? I mean-you're beautiful and blonde and popular, and she's ... well, she's just Hecate Hardbroom."

It breaks Pippa's heart the way any version of Hecate seems to devalue her true self so easily; why can she not see what everyone else can?

"Yes," the Pentangle agrees. "And that's _exactly_ why I love her!"

"She's a nobody though. An awkward witch. The tall, gangly one, who followed you around like a lost puppy, and-"

"She _was_ my best friend ... _is_ my best friend."

"Until she left," Hecate says with a smirk.

There is silence. Though they've moved on and put it behind them, Hecate's leaving all those years ago is still something of a sore spot.

"And deep down, you know she'll leave again," the sing-song tone is sickeningly sweet to the point of chilling. "Its what she does. Dangerous, lonely little witchy that she is."

"No," Pippa hisses, fiercely wiping underneath her eyes, and casting a quick healing charm on her hand, more determined than ever that she's not going down without a fight. "Because this time, I won't let her just walk away, and I certainly won't lose her to _you!"_ Listen to me, Hecate. I know you're still in there somewhere; I can feel it in here," her hand reaches out, touching the spot where the brunette's heart resides, and she feels the familiar thrum of magic vibrate beneath. "See ... you just need to remember; because I remember."

"I remember how good you are, and how kind. I remember that though you try to hide your feelings, you care _so damn much_ about everyone and everything. I remember you once telling me that you think Mildred Hubble has potential — no matter how much you may want to deny that later on, Missy. I remember how _utterly_ disciplined and dedicated you are to the craft, and how you had memorised and could recite the entire Witches' Code by the time you were three and a half!"

There's no movement or attempt to reciprocate, but remaining undeterred and hopeful, the blonde continues with her speech.

"I remember how you love your sleep, and how you are most definitely _not_ a morning person — not until you've had at least three cups of coffee anyway. I remember how you love the rain and nature, to go deep into the woods and scour for potions ingredients. I remember how you laugh, how you smile, and how you smile for me. It's ... different, and I hope it means that you love me. I love you ... I always have done. Just the way you are. I want _that_ Hecate. I want my best friend back ... _My Hiccup_."

With her piece said, she places a soft kiss on the bright red lips. It's not how she ever imagined her and Hecate's first kiss, and oh how she has imagined it, but she hopes that, for now, it is enough.

"So, please ... take the antidote."

Hecate sniffs. The words — or quite possibly the kiss — seem to penetrate something deep within the recesses of her mind. The blonde watches on, barely daring to release the breath she is holding as wide and bloodshot eyes stare helplessly into her own; asking so many questions, without actually saying a word. After a few minutes of silence, Hecate nods, almost imperceptibly, bowing her head so her face is hidden under the mane of hair. "Alright, I'll do it ... for you, Pipsqueak," she says, quietly.

"No, darling," Pippa whispers as she places a finger under Hecate's chin, raising it until their eyes meet. She reaches up, attempting to detangle the flower crown from where it has become caught in the long, black locks, and sets it to one side once it eventually becomes free. Tentatively, she dares to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind Hecate's ear, and then places a gentle kiss on the pale forehead. "For you."

* * *

As she watches the dark-haired woman sleep, completely spent by the events of the day, Pippa briefly contemplates brewing a forgetting potion. In the end though, she thinks better of it, deciding that people deserve to remember Hecate Hardbroom as she isn't, if only to truly appreciate her for all that she is.

Which to Pippa Pentangle, is everything.


End file.
